


soda water

by KuroNeko414



Category: Twosetviolin, Video Blogging RPF, twoset violin
Genre: Alcohol, Best Friends to Lovers, Coffee date, Cuddling, Drunk Confession, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Tension, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, breddy - Freeform, feeding each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24992893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroNeko414/pseuds/KuroNeko414
Summary: Brett always loved to party but is terrible at holding his alcohol. Eddy, the gracious friend that he is, takes care of him. Events happen that made them both question things and looks like things will be brought to light thanks to the intoxicating drinks.
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 39
Kudos: 136





	1. Brett likes to party

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [feelings charades (no talking, only body language)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21018140) by [willurosinmybow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/willurosinmybow/pseuds/willurosinmybow). 



They just finished a successful show and are out for a celebratory drink at a bar. Eddy wasn’t really a party person, but he got a bit more open to things thanks to his multiple personas in their youtube channel. Brett on the other hand is more outgoing, despite not exactly having the best hold on himself with drinks. He usually just drinks soda water because he’ll be totally floored otherwise. But tonight wasn’t one of those nights. Brett’s going all out.

Brett is currently on the dance floor after downing a few beers, and Eddy, the best friend that he is, makes sure to not drink too much so at least one of them has some brain cells to spare. Tapping his foot to the beat of the song in the bar, he squints through the lights to keep his eye on his bro. It feels strange to watch purebred classical musician Brett jamming to pop songs but he looks like he’s having fun. Eddy asks the bartender for a mai tai. He continues to watch Brett as he waits.

He’s been noticing the fans posting about their “loving stares” at each other in their videos. _Do we really look at each other that much?_ He takes a long sip of his drink pondering on that thought and brings his eyes back to Brett. He’s dancing with a girl, and Eddy feels something… _hostile?_ What the frick, it’s just his bro dancing with a random chick, he can do that too.

He finishes his drink and starts to get up. When he gets to where Brett is, he’s already dancing with another girl, and so Eddy busts out some moves. Gotta channel that Viola King suave. _What the hell am I doing?_ He feels utterly pathetic at whatever it is, and doesn’t notice Brett shuffling closer to him. The song changes to something slower, and he feels arms encircle his waist from behind. The shorter man sways them side to side and Eddy is confused.

He puts his hands on the ones on his torso, and sways along. Under blue lights flashing slowly, Eddy wonders if he’s always this comfortable with Brett. They’ve been friends for more than 10 years at this point. They’ve had sleepovers in their teen days, busked together in the streets, and have had hundreds of videos with casual contact, joking, and even dancing. Even Ray remarked that they’re like an old married couple when they played charades with him. It could just be the alcohol, but he made sure to only drink a bit.

He’s so into his thoughts that he barely notices when the song changes. There’s a tugging feeling on the sleeve by his elbow, and he turns to see Brett mouthing something. _Let’s go, I’m tired._ Eddy glances at his watch and sees 1:07am, secretly glad that Brett finally decided to go. They go outside and flag down a cab to the hotel. Brett falls asleep on his shoulder on the way home, clutching his arm. Eddy smiles fondly at this man one year his senior.

* * *

Okay, going to the bar and having a few drinks is fun. But when you’re the one dragging a drunk Brett Yang to bed to sleep, it is no fun at all. “Brett, fricken let go of me,” Eddy says frustrated as he tries to get out of Brett’s clutches. “Mmh, but you’re so warm and soft…” This is why Brett is supposed to only drink soda water. “Yeah, yeah, the bed will be warmer than me, and much softer, I swear.” Eddy wrestles Brett onto his bed and tries to get him changed.

Eddy takes off Brett’s glasses and puts it on the nightstand. He then gets Brett’s shirt off, and the little prick _giggles._ “What the hell man, you- you taking advantage of me?” and he continues to giggle again and again. Eddy feels heat rising up the back of his neck and reminds himself: _I am taking care of a 10 year old child in a 28 year old’s body. He is drunk af and needs to get changed. His mom will kill me._ Eddy grabs a Practice shirt from nearby. “Be a good boy and put your hands up for me,” Eddy says softly to the still-giggly Brett, who raises his arms.

Eddy manages to put the shirt onto Brett, when something wraps around his neck and drags him down onto the bed. “Thank you," Brett slurs drunkenly. Eddy's not quite sure what exactly Brett is thanking him for but he stays still, hovering over his best friend. "I love you, Eddy.” Eddy freezes, then softens, “I love you too, Bretty.” The arms eventually go slack and Eddy removes himself to get changed.

It’s not like it’s new for them to say I love you to each other. They said it when they got their goal after days and nights of busking for their channel. They’ve said it in multiple videos and in late nights of comforting each other through breakups and bad performances. But every single time he hears it, Eddy just feels all soft and giddy for some reason. He’s always been sure that it’s just normal for best friends to feel that way, but that hostile feeling earlier in the bar… was it jealousy? He’s not super sure if he’s jealous of Brett being able to get the girls or… well that next thought is pretty gay.

But it’s not like Eddy cared much about what others thought of who to love either. Sure, his Asian upbringing may have been a bit strict, but he always believed you should be able to love anyone regardless of gender. He stares at himself in the mirror. _Do I love Brett in that way?_ The thought has come up a few times throughout their friendship, and with fans shipping them together, it has been a more recurring thought recently. He dismisses it as he brushes his teeth, looking at Brett’s bed from the doorway of the bathroom. _Brett is a catch though. Anyone would be lucky to have him._ Eddy washes his face, and leaves a glass of water by Brett’s bed along with some ibuprofen. He goes to his own bed and sleeps.

* * *

  
Brett’s vision is fuzzy and he feels his cold toes underneath something soft. _Where am I?_ He rubs his eyes and gets up, squinting in the dark. He must be in the hotel. _It’s so cold._ He lays back down and tries to curl in on himself to get some more heat, rubbing his arms, but to no avail. He’s still a bit drunk, and impulsive Brett is right around the corner.

He decides to go over to Eddy’s bed and sneak under the covers. He huddles close to the warmth of Eddy’s back, and Eddy stirs. “The fu- why are you in my bed, man? You have your own right there,” Eddy says. “Mmm, too cold.” Brett’s feet touch Eddy’s and Eddy jolts. “Oooh warmth,” Brett slurs and snakes his fingers up to Eddy’s neck. “Ah frick, seriously?” Eddy turns around, and holds Brett’s fingers, breathing on them to warm them up.

Brett feels heat surge to his cheeks faster than his fingers warm up, and he opens his eyes. Eddy is still breathing on his fingers but much slower now. Brett figures he'd already fallen asleep again. Eddy's grip on his fingers loosen but Brett doesn't retract his hands. Through the darkness and his bad vision, Brett tries to trace the features of Eddy’s face, from his hairline, his forehead, the area where his glasses would usually rest, down his nose and to those plump lips.

Brett’s rationale is probably still clouded with alcohol, and so he reaches out to touch Eddy’s cheek, and kisses him softly on the lips for a few seconds. It’s soft, as he expected, and drew back to make sure he didn’t wake Eddy. Eddy remained still, breathing steadily, and Brett decided to go to sleep, unaware of Eddy’s pulse quickening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first work and I actually made it like a month ago based on a Facebook post on the TwoSet page about how Brett is only allowed soda water bc he's not super great with alcohol.  
> This kinda sat in Google Docs then in my drafts for a while bc I'm not quite satisfied with it but I figured I might as well post it. It was supposed to be just one part but I decided to split it into 2 or 3 bc I haven't written the rest yet. Hope you like it. Comments are appreciated :D


	2. coffee date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> confusion, doubt, and sneaky glances over breakfast

Brett woke up with his head pounding. “Oh good morning, princess, nice of you to finally wake up,” says Eddy from the small table in their room. Brett looks around groggily, squinting at the blob he presumes is Eddy with a laptop in front of him.

“Dude, how much did I drink last night?” Eddy just shrugs, “I don’t know, I left some ibuprofen right there if you need it though.” Eddy looks away and goes back to staring at the laptop. “I can make some coffee for you too, if you want.”

“Sure man, thanks,” Brett says reaching over to the nightstand, then realizes.

This isn’t his bed.

He lays back down and tries to remember what happened last night, hands grasping at his head. Fuzzy images come to mind, and then he remembers the soft sensation of lips against his, Eddy’s face under his fingers. He feels heat rising up to his face, gets up again to take an ibuprofen, then lets his body fall back down on the mattress.

He’s so screwed. He is so, so screwed.

Well, Eddy was asleep by then right? Maybe he didn’t feel it… but then again, Brett was also a drunk mess and oh boy, he better not have just ruined this. His friendship with Eddy is too important. It’s more important than his puny little feelings. Why did he have to drink so much of whatever he drank last night…

“Here’s your coffee, Your Highness,” says Eddy from beside the bed, and Brett gets up to take the warm cup, disregarding the small contact of their fingers, relishing the warmth now seeping through his cold hands. He mumbles a small thanks, which Eddy acknowledges with a smile and an eye roll, turning around to go back to the table.

Eddy was in the middle of an email to one of their colleagues about reserving the next destination’s venue, but now his mind is distracted by a Brett Yang staring moodily into space. As he tries to conjure words for the message, thoughts about last night comes back, and all he really feels is confusion at this point.

Was that just a drunken mistake? Brett probably doesn’t even remember, and now he’s being all weird thinking about his best friend’s lips against his. Eddy subconsciously puts his hand over his mouth and sighs, bringing his coffee to his own lips.

There _is_ that thing about drunken actions being sober thoughts or some crap. But still, why now of all times? Eddy sneaks a glance at his friend of almost 15 years now, who is just there on _his_ bed slurping on coffee _he_ made, now checking his phone. Dammit, the email, gotta finish it.

Is Brett coherent enough to help with booking plane tickets? Tsk, shouldn’t have let him drink that much last night, that party animal. Brett takes a seat at the table and Eddy has to keep himself from looking up. He seems to have perked up a bit more now.

After a few moments of keyboard clacking sounds and slurps of coffee-drinking, “Wanna just take the day off?” Eddy looks at Brett now, he looks so tired but dammit why does he have to be so stupid cute with his hair still a mess and some pink slightly dusting his nose. Eddy sighs again, “I’ll do some work for the morning then we can chill rest of the day, yeah?” Brett makes a small noise in affirmation and continues to drink his coffee.

Brett is luckily a master of the deadpan expression, but it’s only a matter of time until his best friend would catch on that something’s off… or he would choose to ignore it himself to not damage their friendship. But then again, they always talk about whatever bothers them, that’s why they’ve stayed this strong all these years.

Brett’s eyes stray to his friend, taking note of how Eddy’s forehead creases in focus, and then he thinks back to last night again. He looks down at Eddy’s lips then looks away quickly, totally not thinking about how awesome it would be to just feel them again.

He’s sure Eddy would accept him as he is, but probably not return his feelings and then their chemistry changes and TwoSet falls apart and eventually he’ll just play Pachelbel in Eddy’s wedding to piss him off just to cover a decade’s worth of pining and heartache. Dammit, this is exactly why he only drinks fricking soda water majority of the time.

Brett looks at Eddy’s face again, trying to imprint it into his memory how the glasses frame glints in the sunlight coming from the window, how Eddy is now humming the Sibelius violin concerto, how his hair looks so fluffy and woah bet that feels good to run his fingers through. Brett puts down his empty cup with a clink and looks at his phone, checking through his emails.

He continues to sneak glances at Eddy, noting something different each time—biting his nails as he continues to work, unconsciously fingering something on his arm while thinking, adjusting his glasses with his face muscles. Brett eventually switches to checking their social media: Facebook, Instagram, comments on their most recent uploads, and then the most talented subreddit ever. He decides to break the comfortable silence of their morning.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” Eddy looks to his left (Brett’s right?) away from the laptop screen, then shakes his head. “Are you hungry?" Eddy inquires, shutting his laptop. "We can get something to eat at a cafe, I’m done with this now.” Eddy then proceeds to yawn and stretch.

It reminds Brett of a cat that stretches in the middle of a nap. Brett thinks about it, then a gurgling noise permeates the air between them. They look at each other and the sounds of raucous laughter echo throughout the room. “Well, I guess we could go grab something,” Brett says, patting his stomach. They both proceed to get ready to go out.

“You got your phone?” Eddy answers by bringing up his hand, phone held by long fingers. “Hotel key card? Wallet? A beanie? It could get cold,” Brett continues as he puts on a beanie on his own head. He has his pink sacrilegious hoodie on, and will not hesitate to put up the hood if he deems the temperatures too cruelly cold at 10:30 in the morning. “Yep, yep, and yeah,” answers Eddy, looking like a cute hipster with the beanie and a black turtleneck under his red and black flannel.

“Let’s go then,” Brett says as he heads out the door.

* * *

They go to a local cafe about 10 minutes of walking from the hotel, looking at the menu on the way there. As they enter the cafe, the smell of coffee immediately waft through their nostrils, warmth slowly wrapping itself around the two boys as the muted buzz of pop music plays from speakers somewhere in the shop. Brett decided to grab themselves a table as Eddy ordered them breakfast, sliding onto a wooden seat while watching Eddy at the counter.

Eddy acted normal enough when he woke up, so maybe he didn’t remember anything from last night after all. More thoughts swirl in Brett’s head about possibly ruining TwoSetViolin, losing his best friend, forever living alone and having an unfulfilling life of being a temp for an orchestra back home. Maybe he can put his music degree to use somehow in case he really messes up. Maybe he can be a substitute music teacher somewhere, he's good enough with kids, right?

As the barista prepares their stuff, Eddy turns around, quickly searching the shop for his bespectacled friend that was just getting wasted last night. He spots Brett sporting his deadpan face, eyebrows and mouth relaxed but eyes seemingly drilling holes through the lacquered table with his vision (as if his vision was that good).

Eddy can’t help but notice his perfect Roman nose and the light stubble growing on his chin, remembers calling him a Greek god at some interview, and well, someone really should make a statue of him. Eddy would make it himself but his hands aren’t exactly built to handle a chisel and a hammer, and he’s sure his sketching capabilities aren’t very good. Maybe he is in some other life, Eddy de Fidellis or something in Italy.

He’s a violinist in perfect pitch gang though, so he’ll make a concerto for Brett one day. Maybe.

Brett drums his fingers on the table, humming Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake Suite III, as people around the cafe work on their laptops or talk to their friends in hushed but excited tones. Man, these people probably lived all their lives here and I’m just a passing soul. “Yeah, feels weird right?”

“What the heck man, that’s the second time you did that to me today,” Brett says to Eddy, who is chuckling as he takes a seat. “Not my fault you keep spacing out Bretty, I thought you’d be awake enough after that coffee I made you but I guess not.”

Brett takes his drink from Eddy’s side of the table, fingers curling around the paper cup. Eddy is digging into his own food, already stuffing his face with scrambled eggs while Brett’s sandwich is still there, just vibing in its wax paper wrapping.

“Well, it is weird to feel though. Just like how we lived out most of our life in Australia, these people here went to elementary school then high school and they had friends and maybe even their own little romance or some tragic story. And we’re just here for like 2 weeks, in a place that’s probably super special to some person.” Eddy is just looking at him with something indiscernible in his eyes, his eyebrows knitting together in thought.

“Bro, are you on something? What made you think of this all of a sudden?” Eddy smiles, his crooked teeth shining between shiny, red lips. Ah, those lips. Dammit, he needs to answer. “Well, look,” Brett gestures around with his drink, “these people are here in this cafe, having some coffee for reasons entirely different from our own. Some of them are unaware of our existence or that we even did a show, some are probably focused on school and have a paper due tomorrow-”

“Bro don’t remind me of uni days,” Eddy says, groaning, big hands Brett used to be so jealous of running through his hair. “Shut up, we’re done with uni, we’re _proper adults_ now, but some people here are probably like in high school or maybe in the middle of a divorce and their kids getting taken away by Karen. And we’re just, ya know, vibing,” Brett finishes with a swig of his second coffee.

Eddy’s hand is covering the top half of his face but Brett knows that he’s smiling, he can see his cheeks pulled up, the little tremors in his shoulders from silent laughter. Brett doesn’t really know what came up with him either but if his random morning ramblings would always make Eddy smile like that, then he’d ramble on forever.

“Okay, I get that, but open up your sandwich already will you? You were the one with the grumbly stomach earlier.” Eddy watches as Brett finally grabs his stupid ham sandwich, unwrapping it and immediately chomps on it without hesitation.

Damn, that mouth can- okay, abort thought, nope, and hooray Eddy remembered that same mouth on his own, hoping that his cheeks would not give him away. Yeah no he’s totally not thinking of what else it could do, nope. Brett is mostly concerned about filling his stomach so that’s good, he’s not caught.

Eddy really needs to remind Brett to eat more often though, his arms are getting thinner again. Eddy can see how the sleeves are hanging off more visibly loose than before. Maybe they should set phone alarms for when they should eat. “Bro, Mozart or Paganini probably never had anything as good as this ham sandwich.”

“Okay Brett, seriously, are you on something? You’re having like, weed wisdom right now,” Eddy manages to squeeze out between laughter. Brett just looks around with big eyes as if that explained anything, smiling as he munches on his food.

“I don’t know man, the food is good,” Brett says, immediately drinking some of his coffee again, letting out a breath of satisfaction. “This is almost just like when you noticed those two sheep humping each other in the background.” Brett groans, “Come on, it was obvious.”

And so they talked and ate, laughing about random thoughts that came up. Eddy takes in the sight before him: the corner of Brett’s eyes crinkling every time he reminds him of some random thing he did, the bridge of his nose wrinkling in mock distaste whenever they mention the viola, Brett throwing his head back laughing about some pun Eddy made.

Man, what a wonderful morning. Eddy surely won’t mind waking up to this every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry this took a while, I'm not that much of a writer, and I have no semblance of a schedule while on this lockdown, but I hope I can finish this short story eventually without much delay. If anyone would like to beta read for anything I write, just tell me, I'd be glad to get feedback. I decided to split it into 4 chapters, hope you like this one, I'll post the next one when I get the last part started.  
> Idk if any of you read "In Your Hands" by heavensfeel, but that's where I got the "Eddy de Fidellis" bit from, check out their writing! "In Your Hands" is an au where Eddy is a sculptor in Renaissance Italy while Brett is a violinist, it's a lovely fic.


	3. Getting Fat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strolling around the city + lunch impromptu date

After their little breakfast, they decided to stroll around the city. They walked around leisurely, stopping by in front of shops to look at displays showcasing food or some kind of foreign product. At some point, they came across a music store.

And by music store, it’s specifically a guitar store. They decided to go inside anyways to check it out.

“Hey Brett, look at this guitar,” Brett heard from across the shop. He left the basses he was looking at that reminded him of the little _collaboration_ they did with a certain YouTube channel.

Brett found Eddy with the classical guitars. “Bro, it looks exactly like your dad’s guitar. Except, you know, it has all six strings instead of three,” Eddy said, gesturing to the nylon-stringed instrument, smiling brightly. Brett found himself smiling as well, taking the guitar and putting it in place, standing awkwardly. He’s not exactly the best guitarist seeing his main instrument is the violin, but he does remember one piece he tried to learn once.

He plays the first few measures of Andantino in C Major, right hand fingers playing a clumsy pizzicato. Paganini is indeed the source of pain for many musicians, including classical guitarists. Looking up from his messy try at fingerpicking, he sees Eddy with his mouth slightly open, gaping at him.

“That was actually... unexpectedly good,” Eddy said. Brett felt himself getting flustered, hand messing up his hair out of habit. “It’s not really that good,” Brett confesses. “My dad played it much better.” Brett put back the guitar in its place, reminiscing about impromptu duets and unofficial guitar lessons. “Well, I think it’s pretty good considering that you play a whole ‘nother instrument.”

“Violin gang still has bigger pp than guitar gang though,” Brett said jokingly. He never really used guitar picks, and he remembers being enraptured by watching his dad’s fingers nimbly going over strings making amazing music. Eddy laughed at that, and then they looked through the music books. They joked about guitarists not knowing how to read sheet music and playing pop music all the time.

As they strolled out of the shop, Eddy thought about what would be the funniest song to serenade Brett to. It has to be unbearably cheesy, and it has to be a pop song. Probably something by Shawn Mendes or Ed Sheeran. Shape of You pops into his mind and he laughs out loud, earning a weird look from Brett.

“Dude, should we do violin covers again? It’s been forever since we did one,” Eddy proposed. Brett looked down, thinking about it. Eddy secretly wishes he’d say yes so he can sneak in a few love songs to an unsuspecting Brett, but nobody needs to know that.

“Nah, I think we have enough videos to do. We still have to practice for the Sibelius drop.” Eddy felt himself deflate at the reminder, “Simp Sibelius” ringing in his head accompanied by ding dings from a triangle. Right, they’re like 420k away from the drop, and they still have a few promises to fulfill.

“You ever gonna practice Ernst’s Last Rose of Summer?” Eddy asked with a knowing grin. “That video has had over 50k likes for forever, man.” Brett’s face deadpanned at that. Brett groaned with a grimace, “I already did the Tchaik drop, though. They don’t know how hard it is to even just get the motivation to get my 40 hours in.” Eddy laughed, knowing shared misery is more fun.

They passed by an arcade, and Eddy stopped walking when he spotted a crane machine. It had a koala in it that has the same expression Brett always carries, and Eddy found himself getting coins and Brett shaking his head at him with a smile.

“Dude, you know they’re rigged right?” Brett watched Eddy, who looked way too excited. Eddy had a determined look in his face though, and Brett felt fond. Eddy tried once, twice, three times, each time steeling his face more after 2 seconds of defeat. On the fourth try, Eddy managed to snag the koala plushie. He hugged it and Brett took a picture of him then of both of them.

“What should we name this cutie?” Eddy asked, his face buried in the gray softness. Brett found it terribly cute. “We have Sibelius and Ding Ding at home already,” Brett mused, more to himself. “I guess we can name him Tchaikovsky,” he said with a shrug.

“Alright. Here you go then.” Eddy handed him the plush. “Meet your son, he looks exactly like you,” Eddy said with an open-toothed smile, his lips distractedly shiny. Brett gingerly took the plushie, muttered a small “thank you” and hugged the koala. 

They had a few coins left, so Brett got dragged further inside the arcade by an overexcited 27-year-old man. Brett rolled his eyes at his best friend’s antics and buried his smile behind the plushie in his arms. 

The floor of the arcade was dark with some kind of space-themed pattern, lit overhead by weak lights from the ceiling. The line where the wall connects with the ceiling is lined by neon lights, casting pink, blue, and green glows in its vicinity. Sounds of different games mix together: fishing games, a Spongebob-themed jump rope game, a whack-a-mole, those coin dropper games only your mom would play. There’s some kids crowding around a giant screen playing that game where the chicken crosses the road.

Eddy dragged Brett to a game where the objective seems to be to press the button right as a light going around the entire console lands on the button. Brett isn’t really all that interested but Eddy looks adorable when he’s concentrating on something, so Brett stands by idly. He saw a basketball game earlier, he’ll drag Eddy there once he’s done.

Eddy has amassed a good amount of tickets after hitting the button only a second too late or too early twice. On the third time, he manages to get it just right and-

“YES! I got it Brett, I got it!” Eddy yells, his eyes and mouth wide open and the game beeps obnoxiously while puking out tickets. “Good job, bro,” Brett says as Eddy bends down to get their tickets. Eddy looks satisfied, “Let’s go get this on the ticket counter.”

As the machine eats up the tickets, Brett eyes Eddy, who is humming and swaying his head. How cute. His fringe is all up on his golden glasses, and he looks magical right under the ceiling light. Eddy looks right at him, and grins. Brett hugs Tchaikovsky tighter, smiling back at Eddy.

Brett doesn’t need his heart, that’s okay. He gave it to Eddy years ago.

“Dude, we got 345 tickets!” Eddy exclaims. “Alright, you had your fun. Now come with me,” Brett says, grabbing Eddy’s arm to pull him to the basketball game (Eddy’s tall, he’s got some use).

“Gimme the coins,” Brett commanded with his hand out. Eddy obeyed meekly, and the machine lit up to life. “Alright, 1v1, let’s go. Loser pays for lunch,” Brett challenges Eddy with a smirk, and Eddy is very smitten with this smol man exuding such confidence.

“You’re on.”

Eddy had the advantage of having experience playing basketball in high school, but he knows not to underestimate his best mate. Those legs can jump a good amount and Brett can grab the balls faster because he’s shorter.

However, Brett still lost, only by a 2 point lead by Eddy. Eddy nudged Brett by the shoulder. “Guess you’re paying for lunch,” he says while Brett rolls his eyes. “Alright, alright, now grab your tickets and we’ll just take it straight to the prize counter. They have a counter anyways.”

At the prize counter, Brett stuck his face to the glass, staring down at the cheap prizes. His eyes land on a dumb Chinese finger trap and smiled to himself remembering the time they got one a long time ago and getting both their fingers stuck in it. He looks at the other items: small slinkies, decks of cards, sad consolation prize candies, and- oh. Bubble tea keychains.

“Yo Eddy, they got bubble tea keychains!” Brett says to Eddy, his hands still flat on the glass. “Yeah, I saw them. We’ll get them, gimme your tickets and ima go ask.”

Brett checked his phone while Eddy dealt with getting the prizes. As they walked out of the arcade, Eddy gave him the bubble tea keychain… along with a little violin keychain and a plastic sword.

“Dude, what the heck?” Brett laughs, as he takes each item. “Look, I got us both one of each so we can match, see?” Eddy raises his own little keychains and the silly plastic sword, his grin so big on his face. This is just so unhealthy for Brett’s heart, it’s too adorable. Eddy unsheathes his sword and goes, “En garde!” in a deep voice. Brett parried Eddy’s jabs with his own unsheathed sword, trying not to drop Tchaikovsky or the little keychains.

_We are two grown men playing with plastic swords_ . _I love this idiot._

(Neither of them knew they’re thinking the same thing.)

They sheathed back their swords after their little battle and put their keychains in their pockets. They quiet down into a calm lull as they walk, a bout of laughter still escaping them both whenever they look at each other. A growl sounds between them.

“I saw a Chinese restaurant earlier. Hotpot?” Eddy inquired, eyes already scanning his phone screen on Google Maps. Brett snorted, “Bro, do you even have to ask? You’re getting the directions already anyways.”

“Wanna get boba on the way too? There’s a shop on the way.” Brett smiled fondly at how Eddy knows him so well. “Duh, let’s go get fat.” Eddy snickered at that, patting his stomach as they walked and talked to their destinations.

* * *

“Look at all this food,” Brett said as he moved his phone, letting their Instagram audience see the delicious lunch they’re about to have. The camera panned to the right and Eddy made a peace sign as he prepared his chopsticks.

After finishing the quick Instagram story, Brett felt a tap at his shoulder and smiled as Eddy took a selfie. “Lol, I’m captioning this with ‘on a hot pot date with Brettybae’” Eddy joked beside Brett. Eddy was blissfully unaware of Brett dropping a piece of meat, heat creeping at his neck at the thought of this being a date. They’ve joked about it a few times before, like, 14 years of friendship, of course it’s bound to come up. The thing is, it’s not like he drunkenly kissed his best friend before in the 14 years of said friendship. Why does he have to love partying and be such a lightweight? He can’t even remember what he did in that bar.

Brett unconsciously runs his hand through the gray softness to his left. They got Sibelius the Penguin almost exactly the same way: in a crane machine somewhere away from Australia. Brett smiles fondly at the memory.

On the other hand, Eddy is adorably stuffing his face with bean sprouts and beef. Brett snapped a quick picture. He tried not to have a reaction towards Eddy making satisfactory illegal sounds, shutting his eyes briefly, exhaling through his nose as he was reminded of the foot massage vlog from forever ago.

He looked down at the photo and as he put his phone away, a piece of meat was shoved in front of him. Brett looked at Eddy with an arched eyebrow. “What? I can’t feed hot pot to my best mate? Come on, just open your mouth.” Brett reluctantly opened his mouth, ignoring his heart thrumming underneath his chest, his vision being filled with a rosy image of Eddy feeding him. It reminds him of the Chinese dramas they ~~roasted~~ reviewed on their channel. He shuts down the emerging thought of being Eddy’s mate in a different sense, but he’ll probably wonder about it later.

Unbeknownst to Brett, who is now focused on ~~getting fat~~ eating, Eddy’s own heart is thrumming sporadically. He couldn’t believe he pulled that off smoothly. It feels like his heart is beating on a 7-11 polyrhythm, which is quite funny since he can’t even tap that out. Brett looks so cute, cheeks dusted with pink. Brett looks at him and smiles with cheeks full of food, and Eddy smiles back, feeling giddy. How could someone have a smile that blindingly adorable?

Eddy takes a sip of his bubble tea, thinking if he’d always been this attracted to Brett. Has he always really been that cute? Eddy smiles at the memory of a 17-year-old Brett with awkward braces and wired glasses. He chuckles upon remembering himself say that he would take Brett to prom, and honestly, he really would’ve.

Eddy looks back at Brett, their eyes meeting. Eddy feels vulnerable all of a sudden, and Brett puts his hand out expectantly. Eddy looked at this very small hand in confusion. He wanted to grab it with his own hand, but upon realization, he handed Brett his drink. Of course he’d want to try it, he always does that when they go to a new boba place. Eddy personally thought that the chai milk tea was pretty good, and Brett seems to agree from the approving hum and the fact that he still hasn’t given it back. Cheeky idiot. He’s drinking up Eddy’s tapioca pearls, and Eddy should’ve been mad, but he just decides to grab Brett’s drink instead.

Eddy ignored Brett’s indignant noises at having his drink stolen, hums appreciatively at the plain milk tea. Brett always liked the plain one for some reason, but hey, it tastes good. Eddy gives it back and reclaims his drink from ~~Mr. Tiny Hands~~ Brett, focusing back on stuffing his face full with the Asian goodness that is hot pot.

He hears Brett slurping on his bubble tea when a thought strikes him all of a sudden, and he feels his face getting hot. They just had an indirect kiss. Through boba. Of course, of all fricken things. How did he not freak out with this before? 

While Eddy is internally speedrunning through the five stages of grief because feelings, Brett is obliviously enjoying the view. Everything seems more saturated for some reason, and there’s a bubbly feeling inside Brett as he looks at his friend. His best mate. His good ‘ol buddy pal Eddy Chen that he totally has not been harboring feelings for for about a decade. The light from the window beside him bathes Eddy in a glow, making his hair shine. Soft hair.

Brett restrains himself, opting to continue giving side glances instead. They’d usually be talking through mouths filled with food (yes, his mother taught him manners, but he’s always been a rebel anyways), but he doesn’t mind comfortable silences at all either. They’ve shared half their lives anyway. And they would continue to. He is happy to be his best mate for as long as he lives.

Eddy turns to him, holding out-

“Ew, no get that away from me!” Eddy laughs, popping the mushroom in his mouth. “You were spacing out, I guess I’m just that pretty huh, Brettybae?” Eddy bats his lashes at Brett innocently, and Brett doesn’t really deny it. “Yeah, yeah, pretty annoying.”

“You wound me,” Eddy says with his high-pitched voice, his hand at his chest. “Okay, I’ll grab this then,” Eddy continues in Edwina’s voice, taking a piece of meat, “Open your mouth, ahh~” Brett just chomps at it rolling his eyes. “Awww, Bretty, you look so cute,” Eddy says, hands beside his face like a kawaii anime girl. Brett swallows and takes some beef, “Okay, your turn.”

Eddy takes the bite without hesitation. “Oishi~” he says in his best kawaii girl voice. Brett shakes his head amused and they continue to take turns feeding each other.

* * *

Eddy whistles (that’s an A), patting his stomach. “That was some good lunch. Wanna go walk around again?”

“Yeah sure.”

He’d walk around anywhere as long as it’s with Eddy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this was initially meant to be just them having lunch together, but somehow writing Ling Ling gave me 0.001% of their power and I ended up actually writing out the part before they get to lunch. I am proud to have written this entire thing in one day. Hope you enjoy it, it's the most I've written so far!
> 
> 1\. Someone asked on their discord who the guitar belongs to but I forgot if it was Brett's dad or granddad.  
> 2\. Andantino in C Major is the first piece I tried to learn when I found out about imslp.org and it is suffering to me who is used to using a pick.  
> 3\. Shape of You was that one thing Brett was supposed to play in their video with Roomie, I think. Also, they had 2.58M subs for a little bit but I just checked and now they have 2.59M so only 410k needed now.  
> 4\. I think I saw Sibelius the Penguin somewhere on their Instagram. Ding Ding is another plush they have and it's a uhh... just search up 'ding ding plush' I saw on someone's IG story that they have one.  
> 5\. The button game that Eddy plays in the arcade was actually one of the games I used to play in the arcade in the mall near my school. It got me a lot of tickets and many plastic swords. Sadly, the restaurant that the arcade is a part of closed down a few months ago.  
> 6\. Eddy also mentioned playing basketball in high school and being cast in a High School Musical performance.  
> As for the bubble tea keychains, there's a lot of cute ones online and I honestly wanna buy them but no money.  
> 7\. I wrote the entire lunch part before I wrote the thing with the shops. At some point I though of putting them in the Philippines but it's been 5 years since I was there so I figured I'll put the idea for later. They almost ended up eating at Cabalen by hand and watching the sunset by SM Mall of Asia.  
> 8\. I had to insert Tchaikovsky into the lunch scene bc I was bothered about not seeing him. I also actually don't know where they got Sibelius from but I know it was a crane machine.  
> 9\. TwoSet loves hot pot and I am slightly ashamed I have never had hot pot before. My cousin has though.  
> 10\. One of them does not like mushrooms but I forgot which one it was. I hope I was right.  
> 11\. I have no idea what milk tea flavors they like. Taro is my go-to, but matcha has been growing on me. Chai is my sister's go-to.


	4. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snacks, beer, and something to watch. And maybe a slip of the tongue.

As the sun sets over the horizon, two men walk side by side in a well-lit street. They talk animatedly as they pass neon shop signs, people in suits heading home, teenagers on night outs with friends. The shorter man in a pink sweater and beanie holds onto a stuffed koala while the taller, slender man in a turtleneck and flannel has one hand in a pocket while the other holds two plastic swords.

“So since we’re watching a movie,” Brett says, tone rising at the end of the phrase, “we should definitely go get some snacks.” Eddy rolls his eyes at his adorable best friend, who is glancing ahead contentedly. Eddy himself feels content at their—dare he call it—little date strolling around town and chowing around the place.

“You act as if I need any convincing,” Eddy said with a laugh. Brett laughed along with that, arms still wound securely around Tchaikovsky the Koala. Eddy pulled out his phone and looked up a convenience store nearby for their movie night snack shenanigans.

“Wow, we’re getting very lucky today every time we look for places. There’s a store just around the corner,” Eddy looks back at Brett, smiling brightly. “Well, let’s go then.”

They enter the store, staying at the entrance for a moment to get adjusted to the fluorescent lights. Some song in a different language plays through the speakers, undoubtedly a foreign pop song, if Eddy can tell from the I-V-vi-IV chord progression.

Brett immediately darts off around the shop in search of snacks to acquire while Eddy goes around on his own way. Eddy goes to the sweets aisle, getting some gummy bears for Brett’s sweet tooth and some chocolate. He would’ve gotten Tim Tams like they usually do but they’re not in Australia so whatever they can find has to do.

Eddy takes a turn to the next aisle, seeing Brett at the drinks section from the corner of his eye.  _ Probably getting some beer, that idiot. He better not puke on me later.  _ Eddy grabs two cans of pringles, one cheddar and one sour cream and onion. Gotta have some nice salty stuff to crunch on.

_ This should be good enough. Brett always gets a lot of snacks anyway. _

And lo and behold, there stands Brett already paying in line, the stuffed koala tucked under his arm. Brett got an entire case of cass beer, Doritos, cheetos, salt and vinegar chips, two pints of Ben & Jerry’s Rocky Road-ish ice cream, and a bag of marshmallows.

“So are you paying for all of those?” Eddy asks as he sets his own things on the conveyor belt. He grabs a divider after hearing Brett’s small “yeah” and places it between their things. Brett had his snacks in two plastic bags, which are now on the floor as Eddy pays for his things.

Brett looks like he’s staring into a whole different dimension, beanie covering his head.  _ How cute.  _ He’s staring blankly ahead, his chin pressed to the stuffed koala.  _ Wonder what he’s thinking about. _

Meanwhile, Brett is very lowkey panicking on the inside. He thanks his deadpan expression for saving him so many times, including this. What was he thinking? He bought beer again, as if that didn’t stir any trouble last time. He can hold himself pretty well when sober but it looks like his feelings are just manifesting much stronger now. What if he does some stupid crap while drunk? Curse being a lightweight. Maybe he should’ve just bought Lacroix instead (Yeah right, no thanks, that tastes like angry water).

“Earth to Brett?” Eddy says, snapping Brett out of his reverie. The taller man is already holding one of his snack bags, “You ready to go?” He asks with a soft smile. Brett wants to feel that against his mouth, or any place on him really, he doesn’t mind. He’s not that picky.

“Yeah let’s go.” And off they went back to their hotel room.

* * *

“I’m taking a shower,” Brett announces already on the way to the bathroom. Eddy decided to just get changed into pajamas and set all their snacks on Brett’s bed. As much as it would probably be nice to join Brett in the shower, the other one would probably freak out if he just sauntered in naked. Though, it’s not that unusual, they’ve seen each other bare before.

Just, you know, nowhere steamy, like the water running inside the bathroom. Just the usual things you’d do when you’ve been best friends for half your life. They’ve gone on swimming trips before, and Eddy does remember Brett stripping down to his boxers in a vlog somewhere.  _ This is what peak performance looks like. Yeah, belly rolls and all.  _ He loves those rolls. They’re soft and that coupled with Brett’s pudgy cheeks just makes Eddy wanna squeeze him all the time like some distant aunt. He decides to hug Tchaikoala instead ( _ good one, Eddy _ ) to quell the desire.

Eddy looks down at the snacks, remembers the beer he put in their small fridge. He almost forgot that it was just last night when he took Brett home, when he tucked him in and all, and then the little prick crawls in his bed and just kisses him out of nowhere. It isn’t such a terrible exchange for keeping his fingers warm but dammit, did he really have to reawaken some dormant feelings or something?

The rush of water quiets down, and Brett steps out of the bathroom moments later. No glasses, hair all wet and a towel wrapped around his waist. Eddy looks down and busies himself by opening the sour cream & onion pringles can, booting up Netflix on the TV. It’s starting to feel hot, looks like he has to turn up the AC.

“So what movie do you wanna watch?” Asks Eddy, keeping his gaze focused on the screen. Brett is putting on his white pajama pants with those blue lines crossing on it, from what Eddy could see in the corner of his field of vision. He’s had those pants for years. Guess they’re really comfortable.

“I don’t know man, just put on some stupid romcom or whatever,” Brett answers from beside him, putting on his shirt. Eddy grins at that, trying to think of what could make Brett cringe so much. Either cringe or cry, but Eddy’s probably the one that’s gonna end up crying. Guess none of the Notebook, he’s watched it a few times anyway. What movie…

“Found anything yet?” Brett asked, drying his hair with a towel. “No, I’m still trying to think of one. Wanna just watch some sappy Chinese drama?” Eddy questioned, really running out of ideas. Brett being the handsome prick that he is doesn’t really help his thinking capability much right now.

“Uhh, sure I guess.” Brett hangs the towel on the rack in the bathroom and grabs a beer from the fridge. “Do you want one too?” He asks from near their table.

“Just take the entire case with you man, I know you’re gonna keep getting them later anyways. Don’t want you to keep getting up just to get ‘em,” Eddy says. Brett has done that before, even when they were kids but with caprisuns. Brett comes back grinning with the entire case in his arms, and he sets it down with the rest of the snacks.

Eddy puts on a show he used to watch in his parent’s house, Hello my Darling or something. The intro plays as they both settle on the bed. Brett is under the covers, leaning on the upright pillows behind him with Tchaikoala on his right, left hand holding the beer can. Eddy glanced at his phone screen, the time reading 8:11pm.

_ Guess we’re gonna binge this show all night.  _ Some kind of sheltered rich kid decided to go off to college on his own and, oh that’s his sister?  _ Damn, she’s old. _

“Who the hell names their kid, uh, little brother based on a cartoon?” Brett says, taking a swig of his beer. “That kid is definitely getting bullied,” Eddy agrees. “Bro, imagine if you name your kid fricking Naruto.” Brett laughs without sound, taking another swig. “We should teach him to Naruto run just in case,” Brett jokes, mimicking the running stance while making brrr noises.

“Yeah, yeah, we should teach him the jutsus, too!” Eddy says making the jutsu forms with his salt-covered hands. “Wait, Brett, Brett, Brett.” Brett looks at him, waiting for whatever he has to say. Eddy inhales a breath and goes: “Naruto Yang.”

“BAHAHAHAHA!” Brett laughs raucously, his drink dangerously swinging in the air. Eddy’s own shoulders are shaken with laughs, and he feels light just listening to Brett’s happy noises. Or maybe it’s the beer. Or both. “Naruto Yang,” Brett repeats, wiping at the corner of his eyes. 

Oh right, the show. The kid… dropped his ticket in the terminal. Ooh, pretty-voice lady found the ticket!

Brett pauses the show, then grabs a pringle. He turns to Eddy, and musters “Hey, I found your ticket,” with all the seriousness in his voice, doe eyes reflecting light from the screen. Eddy gets in character, donning the invisible Edwina wig. “Oh, thank you, may I, uh, ask your name?” He says in his shrilly voice. “I… I’m sorry but I have to go,” Brett says. And they both snicker at each other and continue watching.

They were watching the second episode when the scene comes and the kid piggy backed the drunk bully-but-nice-inside girl.  _ “Ugly mushroom head,”  _ she slurred. The kid hmm’d in response.  _ “Will you worry about me forever?”  _ She asked.

Brett pauses it again, takes the last swig of his first can. “Hey Eddy,” he starts. Eddy can anticipate he will ask the same question as the girl, but it doesn’t seem like he’s making fun of them this time. “Will you worry about me forever?”

Eddy stuffs a salt and vinegar chip in his mouth, then takes a swig of his own beer. “Yeah, of course. If I don’t, who’s gonna make sure you get home every time you go out for a drink? Your mom will kill me,” Eddy says, half-joking. “You know I can’t function without you.”

Brett smiles just out of Eddy’s vision. Then he grabs a handful of gummy bears and resumes the show.

They continued to watch the show after that, mimicking the characters in the comedic moments, making shocked faces at the fact that college bullies even exist. They made kissy faces in scenes with so much tension, remarked about the piano scene ( _ “Bro, does he even have the music in front of him?” _ ), and made other stupid jokes.

About 2 and a half hours into their bingewatching, Eddy realized that their bodies are touching. Brett’s socked feet are right on top of Eddy’s, his own head on top of Brett’s which is on his shoulder, and his arm is around Brett’s frame. He feels smaller, but he’s basically making his way to Eddy’s chest at this point (as if Eddy didn’t have that spot reserved for him for years). Brett had drank… damn, 4 cans? Jesus, Eddy needs to get those away from him before he ends up with alcohol poisoning. He’s definitely gonna keep drinking more later, it’s surprising that Brett hasn’t been knocked out yet.

Eddy himself is getting a bit tipsy, but he’s sober enough to know he should just stay quiet. Brett is surprisingly quiet right now too, Tchaikoala sat over the blanket just right where their bodies are touching underneath. Guess Brett is stealing his warmth. Oh well, Eddy doesn’t mind.

He cards his fingers through Brett’s hair, relishing the fluffiness that is now dry. Brett snuggles in closer, eventually draping his arm over Eddy’s torso. Eddy feeds him a few gummy bears, and Brett hums in appreciation.

In their 5th episode, more than 5 hours in, Eddy is pretty much close to bawling. The girl got in an accident and the guy thought that she left him for some rich guy and holy frick he threw the ring to the sea. Tears slid down Eddy’s cheek as he tried to silence his sniffles, while Brett rubs his arm. Brett wiped his eyes too, “yeah I got some, a thing got in my eye,” he says chuckling wetly. Eddy hugged Brett tight and put his head in the crook of Brett’s neck while the other man patted his back.

“This isn’t how I expected this night to go,” says Brett. “I wasn’t planning on crying while drunk at all.” Eddy laughed, still holding onto his best friend.

“Hey Brett,” Eddy begins, trying to get past the thing stuck in his throat. “I promise I’ll never leave you. Do you promise?”

“Yeah I promise. You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

Around 2am, Brett started dozing off. Eddy decided it’s time to turn off the TV, he himself is feeling woozy and well, Brett’s apparently an octopus. He can’t get out of Brett’s grip and frankly, it’s hard to find a reason to do so anyways. Brett’s roman nose is perfect as ever, his hair ruffled a bit. Eddy was about to take off Brett’s glasses, but a hand on his own stopped him.

“Eddy Chen,” Brett said sharply, his eyes still closed. “I love you.” Eddy felt his heartbeat pick up, and he gingerly takes the glasses and sets them down on the nightstand just like last night.

Brett’s eyes fluttered half-open. “I love… that you’re my bestest friend in the whole entire world,” Brett slurred, one arm going up in an arc. Eddy smiled at his childish antics.  _ Is he really confessing like mushroom head guy did?  _ Eddy shook his head in amusement and love.

“I love you… when you buy me bubble tea and always get my favorite flavor.” Of course, the bubble tea. He’s had years to memorize Brett’s order, after all.

“I love you… whenever we play Navarra,” Brett said with a smile. “And you look at me… when one of us makes a mistake.” Eddy chuckles, feeling his heart softening. Who knew drunk Brett is extra soft.

“I love you… when you beat me in Smash. And you yell and strut because you won,” Brett chuckles, his hand reaching up to Eddy’s cheek. His eyes are filed with adoration, the corners crinkling.

“I love you… when you decided to busk with me,” he breathes out, “ and travel the world with me. It was the craziest idea I’ve ever had, and you went on board anyways.” Eddy put his hand over Brett’s. “Of course, stupid, why wouldn’t I?”  _ I’d follow you to the end of the world. _

“Shhhh, shh.” Brett puts his fingers to Eddy’s lips. Eddy kissed them, and felt himself happier as he watched Brett squirm in delight. “I love you… when you go from roasting and making viola jokes to being serious when you teach our viewers about violin and music.”

“I love you… when you play violin, and you can’t help but sway to the music. You play with so much passion, and… and you make funny faces.” Brett snickered, and Eddy hit his cheek lightly.

“I love your voice… and your lips, and your violin hickey, your fingers. I love your hair, and your style, and each and every acne scar dotting your face like, like constellations. Or staccato. Bum, bum, bum,” Brett hummed. “Oh and I love your hands. They’re huuuge, like, they cover an entire butt cheek.” Eddy remembered the butt slap and facepalmed inwardly.  _ Way to ruin the moment. How very Brett of you. _

“I love you… and each persona you’ve ever had in our channel. Tiger mom, Professor Wenuhin, Viola King, Edwina… and I love you: Eddy. My Eddy. You should be Eddy Yang, got a nice ring to it, right?” Brett grinned, his thumb caressing Eddy’s cheek. Eddy feels like crying, like damn. His freaking best friend just confessed to him. What a dream.

“You sure you don’t wanna be Brett Chen?” Eddy asked, making Brett pout. “No! Eddy Yang sounds better,” Brett huffed. What a kid. So cute.

“Okay, I’ll be Eddy Yang. Do you have a ring already?” Eddy questioned, his cheeks starting to hurt from how much he’s been smiling the whole time. “I proposed to you so many times already,” Brett groaned. “You never set a date for the wedding.”

“When?” Eddy asked curiously. When did Brett propose to him? “In every show, you know, with the banana and the rosin,” Brett said, matter-of-factly. “Those don’t count you dingus, seriously.” Eddy rolled his eyes.  _ I wonder if he’d even remember this in the morning. _

“Can I kiss you now?” Brett asked impatiently, like a kid wanting to get candy. Eddy chuckled, and kissed his best friend. Yeah, they’re drunk as heck, and Brett tastes like beer, but his lips are so soft. Eddy nipped on the soft skin, hoping to see the results tomorrow. At least they’re mostly conscious this time.

“I love you, too, Brett.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I did this on a school night because I have no discipline whatsoever, thank you very much. Ended up writing an epilogue which will be uploaded shortly just because I didn't quite like the way I cut it. Took me two months to finish this story, what a trip with my writing style too.   
> The show they watched is Hi My Sweetheart, it's actually a Taiwanese show I watched many years ago. It's 14 episodes long but the episodes are like an hour or so long. Also, school just started back up and I'm distance learning so I may not be able to post writing as much.   
> Thank you for everyone that read this and I hope you enjoyed the end.


	5. Epilogue: Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just the next morning.

Brett woke up to the sunlight filtering through the window, and in front of him is an… Eddy Chen already awake. Staring at him.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Morning. When did we stop watching that romcom drama thing?” asked Brett, stretching. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Around 2 something… can I ask you a question?” Brett is confused but he figures it’s not too serious. “Sure.”

“What do you remember from last night?”

Brett closed his eyes, trying to think of what he could have said or done. Eddy doesn’t look mad so it’s probably not bad. Eddy took off his glasses and…

Brett felt heat rushing to his cheeks, and Eddy is looking at him expectantly. Is that a smirk? No, he must be seeing things. He still hasn't put his glasses on.

“So I uhh… confessed to you.. Huh,” Brett said weakly, still trying to recall hazy memories. He really had to confess while drunk? Really? Great, now he can’t even remember what he said or how Eddy looked like, how he reacted. Genius, drunk Brett, first you go off and kiss Eddy in the middle of the night then you confess. Why the heck do you do this, man?

“Do you remember what I said to you?” Eddy asked, which kinda made alarms blare in Brett’s head. He sounded serious. What did he say, crap, crap, crap, Brett doesn’t wanna play Canon in D in Eddy’s wedding!

“Ummm, can you say it again?” Brett asked, hands fiddling with the blanket. Wait why are they in the same bed? What the heck is going on...

“I don’t like you.” Eddy said flatly. Brett felt his chest getting heavy, and he got ready to put on his deadpan face. Mask the disappointment. Maybe he can still fix this-

“I love you.”

Oh.

Brett looked back at Eddy, incredulous. “Are you pranking me?”

“Dammit, you pour your heart out copying that mushroom head guy confessing, you little- Just kiss me already.” Brett cupped Eddy’s face, closed his eyes, and kissed Eddy. So soft, and so… Eddy.

“So I guess we’re boyfriends now?” Brett asked, cheeks red from just kissing his crush, spacing out. It has been an overwhelming morning. Eddy nodded and Brett felt like bursting. After a decade of pining, suppressing… damn.

Good thing he didn’t drink soda water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is officially done! This is the first piece I wrote, and my first multi-chapter fic I guess. This basically launched me into writing fanfic so I hope you guys enjoy this thing I made based on the sole thing about Brett being a lightweight (which ended up having a bunch of irl references). Comments are always appreciated <3


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